A Note to my Gremlin

Dear Gremlin,

It is okay for me to sit here and stare at my notebook. I don’t mind that I don’t know exactly where I want to take the next bit of writing for the book. It has been a few months, after all, since I last worked on writing new material. I can feel the butterflies in my stomach fluttering to its top, pushing their paper-thin wings against my heart until it flutters in unison with them. I know that feeling. It is a darn good sign. It means that I am about to head into something meaningful.

I know I have you on my shoulder. I haven’t forgotten you. You want to edit. You want everything to sound rich and harmonious through all that’s been written up until now. It can wait, dear gremlin. I promise you loads of time to wordsmith, to help me sound consistent and in tune. Let me get the last of the words down and then she’s all yours.

Sincerely,

me

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